R is for Resistor
One February when I was maybe 6 or 7, my mom and I went to Radio Shack. We approached a clerk and my mom said "Tell him what you want."
"I need a resistor," I said. (Only I may have said it "rethithtor," since my lisp wasn't corrected until I was in 3rd grade.)
"OK," he said, "What kind?"
"It doesn't matter."
He glanced at my mother and then patiently explained that they had many different types of resistors and it did matter which one I used.
"No, it doesn't," I insisted.
Looking a little pained that he had to deal with two such uninformed females, he again insisted that it did.
"Why don't you tell him what you need it for," my mom suggested.
After I explained, he agreed that it actually didn't matter what kind of resistor I got, so he'd show me where the cheapest ones were.
On Valentine's Day, my dad came home to find a card with two resistors bent into a heart and taped to the front. Inside it read "I can't resist you."
(My dad had been teaching me about electronic circuits, so I wanted to make him an electricity-themed valentine. Also, I meant to post this on Valentine's Day, but last week was crazy busy. Also also, I keep trying to write blog posts about my dad, but they end up being about other people, instead.)